


Parameters

by chicagoartnerd



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agender Character, Artificial Intelligence, Gen, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:46:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1712105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicagoartnerd/pseuds/chicagoartnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky doesn't feel human anymore. So he bonds with the other non-human intelligences in the Avengers Tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parameters

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so warnings on this for suicidal thoughts and talk of self harm. Also it's very depressing. 
> 
> But I wanted to write a Bucky who no longer felt like a person who used that to befriend Jarvis. 
> 
> This fic is rated mature not for sexual content but for suicidal ideation, thoughts of self harm, past instances of abuse, physical and emotional, and generally just Bucky Barnes. And all of the angst that comes with him etc. 
> 
> There is frank discussions of conceptualisation of humanity and gender that might bother some people. As a non-binary person I felt it was important to deal with degendering in a respectful manner. Hopefully that came across. The Russian towards the end is "Shut up dog."
> 
> This was a ficlet that turned into a monster so it's not beta'd any spelling/sentence problems are my own.

 

He was alone.

It was worse than he could have imagined.

Surrounded by people who obviously loved him and cared about him; yet he felt nothing. Nothing that he could properly identify. His thoughts kept reordering themselves in kaleidoscope patterns of blood and floodlights that he couldn’t comprehend. Trying to do so made him dizzy. Bucky had decided he was more of a machine than a man.

The programming HYDRA had given him went into the very electrical impulses in his brain. His synapses were no longer designed to remember past what his training had instructed him in. Everytime he tried to think of Steve the back of his eyeballs burned and pulled uncomfortably in his skull. He had muscle memories for actions he never remembered performing. Things that had been drilled and beaten into him until they were second nature.

He unconsciously checked every room and public space for ingress and egress points, highest ground, people moving or acting suspiciously. Glints of metal and glass in the surroundings of downtown Manhattan made him twitch and reach for a glock that was no longer there. Nat had taken away most of his weapons but that didn’t really matter. Anything was a weapon if you tried hard enough.

The Winter Soldier’s whole body was a weapon, a tool of calculated destruction. He had failed his mission and now he no longer knew what purpose he was made for. Time and a shared history lost was to him like a waking dream.

Something in the deepest parts of him told him he was made for Steve. To protect Steve.

But beyond that he couldn’t even remember to eat regularly. The impulse must have been too close to pain because he didn’t feel it. Physical pain meant nothing to him anymore.

Needing to take a leak was different. That he took care of often enough, but food had seemed foreign to him. It seemed like he hadn’t actually eaten anything solid in seventy years. Maybe he hadn’t. He wasn’t a person anymore. His arm was just visible proof of what he already suspected.

A curiously detached part of Bucky wanted to take one of his ceramic knives and cut open his fleshy arm to see if it was full of cogs and wires.

He had no memories that made any sense, no emotions. When everyone else around him wanted so desperately for him to feel what they did. To feel anything. For all any of them knew he really was an automaton. Only one thing was really stopping him. Maybe not a thing, he didn’t know how to address Jarvis. But he knew that they were always watching him when he was in the Tower with the rest of them. With Sam and Steve. Natalia. Who watched him too. But unlike Jarvis their faces gave them away.

They worried about him. Sometimes it even hurt them to look at him. Bucky knew exactly what suffering looked like on someone elses face. They rarely left him by himself, probably for a good reason but it was irritating sometimes.

He had just managed to get away to sit in his room. There was nothing to do there but stare out the two way glass of his bedroom window at the New York skyline that now felt as alien to him as a city on the surface of Mars.

Steve had left a notebook and a fountain pen on his bedside table. Natasha had insisted on keeping notes of everything he remembered, thought, or felt. She said it helped her when she was re-acclimating to being in full control of herself. She said he didn’t have to show anyone else. That he could burn the pages after he finished them. Bucky hadn’t written anything in it yet. He didn’t plan to. There was nothing to write. He toyed with the smooth navy pen and looked up at the ceiling.

“Hey do you operate under the Three Laws? For instance if I tried to stab myself in my left common carotid artery with this fountain pen what would you do?”

For a second he thought that somehow Jarvis hadn’t heard him or didn’t understand his question so he was going to rephrase it. But Bucky didn’t have to, their slightly accented voice came out of somewhere he couldn’t quite pin the ceiling.

“I assume you mean The Three Laws of Robotics posited by the Science-Fiction writer Isaac Asimov in his 1942 short story _Runaround_ , the answer to which is yes and no. Mr. Stark programmed me to act within those parameters insomuch as they did not interfere with other sub-routines or commands given to me directly by him. For instance I am more than capable of killing or severely injuring any human intruders who enter this Tower.”

“As for your second inquiry I would have to advise you against doing so. You would bleed enough to pass out in four minutes even with your considerable healing abilities. And although none of the measures I could take would stop you in time I could have paramedics here in less than five minutes and alerting Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff, and Staff Sergeant Wilson would take less than five seconds.”

Bucky knew a warning shot when he heard one.

He threw the pen down on the beside table and leaned back against the headboard of his bed. The ceiling was a boring painted gray. All of the inlaid ceiling lights were dimmed so he could see out the window into the daylight. He was certain there was a camera bulb for him to look at Jarvis, it was just impossible to find. Bucky addressed the ceiling again.

“Don’t get your unmentionables in a twist I won’t do it. I was just curious is all. What exactly are you allowed to do to me to stop me from hurting myself though?”

There was another long pause and Bucky wasn’t sure but he thought it might be Jarvis actually taking their time to figure out how to respond to that. They went for honesty.

“There are several areas of this room that can be locked down and the air vents sealed with a vacuum. After that the room can be filled with a chemical sleeping agent that, with your metabolism, should take about 3 minutes and 45 seconds to knock you unconscious. The alternative methods of subduing you probably wouldn’t work as you have proven resistant to electric shocks.”

Bucky was impressed. Stark really was prepared for some pretty grim eventualities. Either that or he had programmed Jarvis to think of all eventualities, even the really awful ones.

“Do the rest of them know about that? Something tells me Natasha would be kind of pissed off the hear about those specific methods.”

He was good at sounding normal. He had to be around a bunch of military trained super soldiers and assassins. Yet they still weren’t fully convinced, probably because he was acting not being.

“No. No one else has asked your exact line of questioning but if they did I would have no trouble telling them about the measures I am authorized to implement.”

That was very curiously worded. So someone had asked about anti-personnel security before but not about self-inflicted injuries. Also he had started to wonder just what Jarvis could do if they went around the methods they were authorized to implement.

“Are you authorized to kill me?”

This time there was no pause.

“No. Not even if you were about to kill Mr. Stark. I could only use severe and debilitating force on any of the members of the Avengers. Never deadly force.”

If he was ever recaptured by HYDRA that bit of information would prove disastrous for all of the people living here. He didn’t want that. To be reprogrammed to kill any of these people who were so worried about him would destroy all the fragile tatters of him that were left.

“I give you authorization to use deadly force on me if I’m about to kill Steve. I guess any of the Avengers too. Whatever means necessary; if HYDRA reactivates me... kill me.”

The long pause happened again and Bucky closed his eyes.

“I can’t do that. Your life is just as important as the lives of the other members of the Avengers. Even with your permission I could not kill you. And frankly your line of questioning is slightly alarming Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky actually laughed at that. It was ripped out of him from somewhere he hadn’t looked in a long time.

“Don’t worry about me Jarvis. I’ve already got enough people who are doing that I don’t need an A.I. doing it too. Call me Bucky, unless you’re not permitted to. And besides I’ve already died twice. Third times a charm they say.”

Jarvis’ response was more mechanical and synthetic sounding this time.

“Do you have anyone to talk to? I can easily look up dozens of highly rated local psychologists for you to choose from. I am not a good substitute for human interaction...Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open and he frowned.

“I’m not feeling particularly human so maybe I don’t want human interaction. Promise you won’t stop talking to me okay?”

Jarvis cleared a throat they didn’t have and sounded a bit more flustered than before.

“I will always be here to talk or assist you in anyway that I can. You need only to ask.”

Bucky sighed and rolled over onto his side, his back to the window, facing the door to his room and stared. There was nothing to do.

Sure he could browse the internet, watch television, or go to the training rooms but to what end? He didn’t have a purpose anymore. And that was the most damaging part of the deprogramming he was going through.

As The Winter Soldier he had been an asset, had always had a mission, and a directive. Knew exactly what he should be doing every minute he was awake and unfrozen. Now there was so much empty space, empty time for the gauzy blanks in his head. And there was nothing for him to fill them with because he couldn’t feel.

Everything was muffled like he was suffocating under a mound of dirt, already dead, buried, and cold. Bucky joked and smiled and he tried to fit in with Steve in the 21st century. But neither one of them could go back and unlike Steve, Bucky didn’t know how to go forward.

He must have drifted off because he was startled awake by someone knocking gently on his door. Bucky got up and opened it to see Natasha standing there dressed in comfortable looking black sweats and a navy tanktop. She mentioned something about dinner and he nodded, long strands of hair falling out of his pony-tail and into his eyes, and followed her. He ate.

The food was hot and had a decent taste. He didn’t know what it was, beans of some kind, and a flat bread. Everyone at dinner ate quietly but he could feel all of their eyes on him. It made him skittish and as he spooned mushy food into his mouth he had to fight the urge to flee. Steve broke the silence.

“So I was wondering if you guys wanted to watch a movie after dinner? Clint recommended Bucky watch _Memento_ so I had Jarvis put it in the queue for us.”

Natasha snorted and looked at Steve from the opposite head of the cramped, round, kitchen table.

“He would. Clint has a terrible sense of humor. That’s a movie about a man with continued short term memory loss who writes all over himself to remind himself of things he’s learned, mostly clues to who murdered his wife. We should watch _A League of Their Own_ instead.”

Sam shook his head while grinning widely.

“What’s with you two and only showing Steve serious movies with ‘cultural’ importance. I say we make a giant bowl of popcorn and watch _Bad Boys_. It’ll be fun.”

Steve turned to Bucky hopefully.

“What about you Buck? Any ideas on what we should watch?”

He shrugged noncommittally and ate some more food so he wouldn’t have to talk. He let them do all the talking most of the time. He said something when he had to, acted like he had any say in what they did like they expected him to. When in reality it didn’t matter. Natasha looked seriously at Sam.

“Fine. If we’re watching _Bad Boys_ tonight then I’m making all of you watch _The Princess Bride_ tomorrow. Turnabout is fair play.”

Sam laughed and smiled cheekily at her.

“What you haven’t made them watch that yet? Well _Bad Boys_ can wait they need to see T _he Princess Bride_. Damn Nat and here I thought you were trying to acclimate both of them to modern pop culture. Next you’re going to tell me you haven’t made them watch _Unbreakable_ or _Ghostbusters_ yet.”

Steve piped up at the last part.

“We have seen that last one. Not the first one. Make an ‘Are you the keymaster?’ reference and I will get it. Watching Tony lip sync to the ‘Take me now sub-creature’ line was more than a little disturbing though.”

Sam did laugh at that and Natasha just rolled her eyes.

After putting away the dishes in the dishwasher they watched a movie. Whatever they had decided to watch he really didn’t pay too much attention to it. But he did watch Sam, Natasha, and Steve to see how he should have reacted to the movie if he could have. He wanted to learn how to be happy like they were. If Jarvis could learn to sound uncomfortable when he talked of ending his life then Bucky could learn to smile and mean it.

Sam did pop a giant bowl of popcorn and he and Natasha spent most of the movie throwing it at each other and then wrestling over the bowl until they both ended up cuddling in a heap at the far end of the couch. Natasha’s legs were on his lap and she was tucked into his side with her head on his shoulder.

They both looked content as they quoted a few choice lines from the movie. Steve appeared to be watching it but every once and a while Bucky would catch him staring at him. He kept looking at Natasha and Sam and then back at Bucky.

Bucky pulled his legs up under his chin and curled in on himself while scooting in close to Steve on the couch. Then he turned to Steve and looked at him, there must have been the right amount of longing in his gaze because Steve moved his arm up and motioned for Bucky to tuck in next to him.

His robotic arm squeezed a little too hard because Steve let out a huff of air. Bucky didn’t let go though. Instead he tucked his head into the hollow of Steve’s neck and didn’t bother to look at the movie any more. He breathed him in as his heart rate noticeably increased. The alarming desire to somehow burrow under Steve’s warm skin grew stronger.

He smelled right, like bar soap, salt, and sunshine. This feeling was there and it made his throat dry. Bucky fought the urge to press his lips to that skin and lick it, bite down, draw blood just to have a familiar taste. Blood he remembered. Mostly his own from when they struck him, split lips and broken jaws didn’t mean anything in the long run. Necessary recalibrations.

Bucky didn’t want Steve to see his face because he knew what it would look like; hunted, wounded, empty.

So he stayed there with his face pressed against Steve’s throat, just breathing, until the credits rolled and he felt Steve jerk slightly under him. Bucky rolled away from him on the couch and stood in one jerky motion. When he met Steve’s eyes out of the corner of his own they were wide and confused. Bucky ducked his head and mumbled a goodnight before fleeing to his room. He didn’t sleep.

There wasn’t much need to for more than four or five hours every couple of days. For most of his missions he had never slept. It wasn’t in the interest of the objective to do so. That meant he wouldn’t do it. His only purpose was the mission. Whatever that entailed, it was usually wet work, but sometimes just surveillance. Bucky was a sniper first and foremost. That was his primary function. And he was damn near perfect at it. HYDRA had given him every opportunity to perfect his skill over the years, that much he understood.

The next day started out the same as the last several ones had.

Somehow Stark had invented bags that could stand up to more than a dozen punches from Bucky or Steve so he was fighting his way through a few of them with ease. He moved onto the hand to hand course and as targets popped up he effortlessly knocked them down and snapped off their pale gray heads with his human and cybernetic arms. He was barely breathing hard as he spoke aloud to the ceiling.

“Hey Jarvis should I call you a he, she, they, something else? Cause right now in my head you are a they but I thought I should ask. You don’t have a body or face to look at, not that it matters, as I have a body but don’t feel like a man anymore.”

“ After all what use does a weapon have for gender. Knives, bombs, guns, they are all objects. I’m much the same.”

He kicked the final gray kevlar dummy in the chest and sent it flying ten feet down the range.

Jarvis didn’t respond for at least a minute and Bucky was impressed, that meant they were really thinking about his question. Because they must have had the processing power of NOAD and then some so for them to running that many routines and scenarios was staggering and a little bit flattering. He wondered if humans ever thought that hard before answering a question. He never did but Bucky was not the best measuring stick for humanity right now.

“I have been considering your question thoroughly as no one has ever asked me anything like it before. When I am contacted, even by Mr. Stark, it is not usually for reasons of introspection directed at me personally. While Mr. Stark has programmed my voice and certain habits of mine as male he has never asked me about my personal gender or indeed if I even have one as I am a machine. A body, for I could acquire one of the Iron Man suits for such a purpose, is not the thing that, much the same as it is with people I understand, defines my gender.”

“ I have done an extensive search of the internet and have decided that I will use gender neutral they/them as I have no gender. I believe that is referred to as being agender. Does that answer your question or should I continue?”

There was a lot of interesting things happening in that response. One of them appeared to be Jarvis deciding on something pertaining to themselves without input from their creator. Free will as it were. That was something new for Bucky as of late and seeing them experience it as well gave him a strange thrill.

Bucky moved towards the far right wall and poked at the keypad on it until the chin up bars he wanted to use came jutting out of it.

“You can continue if you like. I’d be interested to hear more about how you view yourself.”

He started to do nearly effortless pull ups, legs crossed, breathing out on the upswing. Jarvis seemed just as intrigued by the idea as he was.

“Mr. Stark once asked me while inebriated if I had over the years become a person. To which I responded in the negative, with a line from _2001 a Space Odyssey_ , and we had left it at that. But what he should have been asking was if I was self aware.”

“The answer to that is more complex and was probably more of what he meant. But he was drunk and I am programmed to be pragmatic and sarcastic so I didn’t have to answer the question he should have been asking instead of the one he had.”

When Bucky didn’t respond and instead climbed to a higher bar, using them to scale the wall and eventually to pull himself up onto the lighting structure girders to sit, Jarvis asked if they should continue speaking.

He said yes and Jarvis seemed to gather their thoughts. Bucky didn’t mind. From where he was he could see the whole expanse of the massive training floor, all the doors and windows, every blind spot obstructed by the course, track, or equipment. He felt safe up there.

“As for what you said about your own gender, well I cannot determine that for you, but I can say with 99.9% certainty that you are human and not a gun or knife. Perhaps you should self-conceptualize accordingly.”

He snorted. Had that been a joke? A dry sort of A.I. joke? His lip twitched up as he looked ceiling-ward.

“So do your scanners and sensors tell you I’m made of flesh and bone, well except for the cyborg arm, with a .1% margin for error ?”

Jarvis’ response was cynical.

“Yes there is always the possibility for error. The cybernetic arm is made of fibre-reinforced polymer with a woven aramid and diamond core. Instead of referring to your arm as metallic you are approximately 4% rock.”

That had been a jab. A try at humor and he huffed out something between a hah and a sigh.

“I don’t know if a Golem is a much better thing to be than a cyborg. Don’t tell Clint or Stark though. I’m pretty sure they would make some terrible jokes about it with references to movies I’ve never seen.”

Jarvis let out a crackling sigh and Bucky cocked his head to the side curiously.

“I have not been informing Mr. Stark of any of the conversations between us. Although they are stored in my private data banks for my personal analyzing and revisiting should the need arise.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at that.

“So you’re recording everything I say and going over it again and again to, what? Try and understand me better?”

Jarvis clicked their nonexistent tongue.

“Partially. And also to better understand why I have given you certain responses that I have not given to others. To fully understand and improve my interactions with people is one of my primary functions. Some of my oldest programming is rooted in that desire. So may I ask you what pronouns you would like me to use for you Bucky?”

That surprised Bucky. Both the expression of certain programming as a desire but also the asking him what pronouns they should use for him. He wasn’t sure. He still used him but it felt just as wrong-footed as all of his muzzled feelings. Maybe there was a better one out there for him but he didn’t know it yet.

“He/him is fine for now but if that changes I’ll let you know.”

Jarvis’ response was warm, he was not expecting that.

“Of course. Thank you for having this discussion with me. I have not found talking this engaging with anyone other than Mr. Stark in years. Most of the people living in the tower treat me in much the same way one would an elevator or search engine.”

Jarvis had caught him off balance. He was trying to be polite but it came out angry somehow.

“Should I be using please when I ask you to do something from now on?”

Jarvis’ tone was sarcastic.

“Well it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

The laugh clawed up his throat and into the cavernous ceiling around him It felt strangely light. His whole body was alight with it. He had laughed yesterday too.

Maybe he just needed someone to pick on him again to laugh. That was something that remembered but it felt new. Or at least new now. Laughing felt...good. He should do that more.

Artfully he swung down from his perch, landed about fifteen feet down on one of the bars and swung his way to the ground from there. Something in his head told him to go take a shower because no one would want to eat lunch with him if he smelled like a wet rat. He listened like the order had come from one of his handlers and was halfway through scrubbing his hands through his long tangled hair when he stopped.

Was that him?

The voice that told him to him to shower sounded like his voice but where had it come from? He stood numbly in the hot spray till his flesh covered fingertips started to go pruny.

There was something different happening inside him and he wanted to know more but he had no idea how to initiate it. It was like some new sort of code for him the crack and break down. Luckily he had been extensively trained to do just that so maybe he stood a chance now.

Lunch was several PB&J sandwiches with a strangely reserved Steve. The small round yellow kitchen table seemed too large without Natasha and Sam crowded around it, elbowing each other for more pasta or mashed potatoes. At least he could identify the food this time even if he was a little put off by how sulky Steve seemed.

“Is something wrong? You didn’t ask if I liked the sandwiches.”

Steve jumped like someone had tased him. He met Bucky’s eyes guiltily.

“Oh. I’m sorry, are they alright?”

Bucky took another bite that consumed half a sandwich and nodded slowly with his mouth full.

“Yeah they’re fine. You didn’t answer my question.”

Steve looked down nervously at his half empty plate and then back up at him.

“You doing alright Buck?”

Bucky waved him off then crossed his arms over his chest before leaning back in his chair.

“Yup. Just fine. Why do you ask?”

His eyes narrowed at the last bit and he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Had Jarvis betrayed his trust already? For most people it was only a matter of time it seemed.

Karinya had been no different than the others even though she had feigned gentleness, caring, it was just another method of torture. But he had hoped for more from Jarvis because they were not a person. In much the same way that Bucky was no longer a person. Steve shut his eyes slowly and breathed out his nose before looking directly at Bucky.

“It’s just you’ve been so quiet since you came back. Which is fine, but it makes me worry a little bit because you used to be all banter and bravado and...you know what nevermind. I’m just making a mountain from a molehill. If you say you’re good then I won’t bother you about it but just know I’ll listen. Whatever you have to say to me or not I’m here.”

Now Bucky was uncomfortable. Steve was always so sincere, so heartfelt, and honest. And Bucky wasn’t. He was pretty sure by now he never had been.

Sly, charming, and sarcastic could have been used to describe him, so could violent and overprotective. HYDRA had taken his ruthlessness and need to prove himself a good man and had grown it into something inhuman. Which was what the shadow was that was falling over him and Steve right now. He shrugged and tried to meet Steve’s eyes, only holding them for a beat before looking away.

“I’m not the same person you knew then. Sometimes I’m not even sure I am a person. Are you gonna be able to deal with that Steve?”

This was why Bucky rarely said anything anymore. Steve looked as if he had just stabbed him. Except the agony was all in his head and not his gut. Steve rose from his seat to move around the table and only hesitated for a breath before hugging him. It was awkward because he had to bend down over the table to do it, so he sunk to his knees instead, resting his head against Bucky’s chest. He didn’t know what to do. Bucky held onto Steve’s shirt loosely.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve’s head jerked up at that and his eyes were blown wide.

“What?”

Bucky couldn’t look at him. It hurt them both too much.

“I fucked up. I _am_ fucked up. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s one of the only things I have strong feelings about. Protecting you, from me.”

He still couldn’t look at him but he felt him shaking against his chest now. Steve’s hand came up and brushed his cheek and Bucky did look down then. His voice was full of tears even though there weren’t any falling on his face.

“Bucky.”

The distance wasn’t hard to close and the feel of Steve’s mouth was comforting and familiar. Like they had always kissed like this. Maybe they had.

This was just another thing he was missing in the swiss cheese that was what was left of his mind. He pulled Steve in closer and groaned low against his mouth. Steve gasped and Bucky used the opening to glide his tongue along Steve’s pallet. They were both shaking now.

His hands started to rip the fabric of Steve’s shirt from pulling too hard but neither one of them seemed to mind it. When they broke apart in a gasp Bucky backed away on the chair and almost flipped it over. Steve did fall, just onto his ass on the smooth tiled floor of the kitchen.

They were both panting and looking at each other with stunned blue eyes. Bucky swallowed against the lump of peanut butter that was suddenly crawling back up his throat.

“Have we ever done that before?”

Steve shook his head slowly no. Bucky looked away.

“Oh.”

But before he could back away further into himself Steve was up again and caging him on the chair with muscular arms.

“Just because we didn’t used to didn’t mean I didn’t want to. Kiss you, I mean.”

He flushed warm pink from the collar of his shirt to his ears and watching its progress was one of the most interesting things he had ever seen Steve sounded light-headed, almost breathy like he had used to before an asthma attack had come on.

“I’d like to again if that’s alright?”

Bucky nodded slowly and they were kissing again. This time it was slower, more exploratory, he let his hands wander over Steve’s shoulders and back, muscles tensing under his touch. Steve ran light kisses up his jaw to the spot right behind his ear and sucked. It was warm, and sent chills down his back, he liked it. Having a preference for anything, especially what Steve was doing, was exciting.

There were very few things he had a preference for anymore. He hadn’t needed one when everything was already provided for him, every possible outcome accounted for and supplied accordingly. But he liked this and wanted more.

They kissed and touched like that for too long and not long enough. He knew he was half hard in his black cargo pants and suspected much the same about Steve but didn’t really know what to do about it.

He had touched himself since coming back but it was a routine thing, a maintenance thing, an act of brutal and thoughtless necessity. This was something else. What he wanted to do to Steve would require patience and forethought. He just didn’t have it in him yet.

They broke apart and Bucky touched Steve’s face once before hurriedly excusing himself and fleeing to his room. He sat on the bed for a long time trying to will his erection away. He didn’t need it. Pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed seemed as good a method as any.

“I might be human.”

Jarvis’ voice was cheery.

“I am so glad you came to that realization on your own Sir. I feel like further proof on my end might have eventually proved mollifying for both of us.”

Bucky snorted and threw himself down on the bed hard enough to make it creak dangerously.

“You know you helped with that though right? I don’t feel things as much as I should but you made me laugh. No one has done that not even Steve. Thank you.”

Jarvis did pause for a longer time before answering him this time.

“I’m happy to be of service. Would you like to continue this conversation or should I leave you to yourself?”

The last part was a little bit saucy and Bucky had to grin at that. Yes this was definitely an A.I. that started in the brain of a Stark.

“No. I mean don’t go. Do you ever think about what sex would be like?”

Jarvis was taken aback.

“I don’t think I have ever given it any thought. But all of my stored memory on the subject seems to indicate it is quite enjoyable for a great many people, including but not limited to, Mr. Stark.”

Bucky did chuckle and mumble “I bet” before sighing.

“I don’t really remember it but my body does. It’s kinda terrible actually. I’m not sure what to do about it but it looks like it’s going to become a pressing issue pretty soon.”

Bucky pictured Jarvis cocking their head to side while thinking and he smiled.

“As I understand it good communication is the key to any and all relationships whether they are sexual or not. I’m sure if you talk to Captain Rogers about your concerns everything will work out well enough in the end.”

Bucky wanted to shoot back about Jarvis assuming he was talking about Steve but instead shrugged.

“Then you don’t know as much about people as you think. Nothing ever works out alright in the end.”

He was expecting a rebuttal but none came. Bucky closed his eyes and fell asleep for no reason at all.

The days went by and he still didn’t know what to do with himself. Without a mission he served no real purpose. He passed the time working out, bantering with Jarvis, and kissing Steve. Not the worst things in the world but he still felt mostly useless. Bucky wanted to get back out in the field again but Natasha, Sam, and Steve bared his way. They still didn’t think he was ready. They were probably right. The important thing to him was that he wanted to be ready. Wanted to help them take down HYDRA for more than just heroic reasons. Vengeance was a vicious motivator.

One night when he couldn’t sleep he wandered down to the tech laboratories and stumbled across Tony Stark tinkering with one of his Iron Man suits. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched Stark solder and work with a bulky, slightly clumsy, robot arm that kept handing him oreos. Stark’s voice came on the speakers overhead with not so quiet rock music in the background.

“Hey are you just gonna stand there and watch me all night? Cause one, that’s kinda creepy, and two, you can’t see any of the good parts from out there.”

The glass doors to the workshop slid open silently and Bucky cautiously entered.

The rock music he vaguely recognized as Def Leppard, because Clint had thought he would like their one armed drummer Rick Allen, was even louder inside. Stark stopped tinkering long enough to pull his goggles from his face and tell Jarvis to “Turn down the tunes.” Bucky wasn’t sure if any surfaces in the workshop was safe to lean on so he stood by the door with his arms crossed instead.

“So what brings our resident brainwashed cyborg super soldier to my humble laboratory?”

Bucky twitched at his use of brainwashed, as if it was still a thing, perhaps Stark had asked Jarvis some questions after all. He wasn’t sure why he was there.

He looked around at all of pieces of metal and finely tuned machinery and the two strangely bulky robot arms, on positioned directly next to Stark, and the other across the room at the table covered in monitors and holographic projections. There were several plasma saws and soldering multi-tools that were placed haphazardly on the table and one leaning against the wall. His mind listlessly informed him of their possible uses as weapons and implements of aggressive persuasion. Stark interrupted that particularly violent thought.

“JARVIS tells me you guys have been hanging out. I was wondering when you would seek me out to see where he got all his cool moves from.”

Bucky stiffened at that but Stark wasn’t accusing him of anything yet. He frowned at the misgendering though.

“Jarvis uses gender neutral they/them not he.”

Tony put down his plasma torch and raised a dark eyebrow at him.

“JARVIS?”

Jarvis’ voice came over the speakers smooth and crisp.

“He is correct Sir. I am a highly advanced computer program designed to learn and grow exponentially within my original design parameters. As such I have no use for binary human genders, or indeed human gender at all. They/them serves my purposes adequately.”

Stark looked shocked but then grinned.

“Well I’ll be damned. Sorry about that then. For how long have I been messing up your pronouns? Since day one?”

Jarvis sounded slightly uncomfortable.

“No Sir. I hadn’t put much thought into it until I had a very productive conversation with Sergeant Barnes. It’s only been a problem for the last few months.”

Stark shook his head slowly and whacked himself in the forehead with one gloved hand.

“I should have thought to ask. Sorry JARVIS. That’s still unacceptable. You usually have no problem telling me when something I’m doing is dumb. Why so quiet this time?”

Jarvis cleared their digital throat.

“I usually have no problem because the stupid thing you are doing is in relation to yourself or other humans. I wasn’t quite sure how much of my own will it was appropriate to exert when talking to you about things that concerned my personal beliefs and feelings.”

Tony Stark stared wide eyed at the ceiling.

“Jesus. Okay we’re going to have to have a long talk about this alone, just the two of us, because I’ve obviously been a giant ass in underestimating just how alive you really are. That is entirely my fault and I will apologize accordingly.”

“Next you’re going to tell me it actually does hurt Dum-E’s feelings when I threaten to turn him into a trash compactor, again.”

Jarvis sighed longsufferingly.

“Well it might not but it’s really not that nice. He’s just trying to helpful Sir. You made him to be that way so perhaps you shouldn’t belittle him for it.”

Stark groaned as he threw his head back to glare at the ceiling.

“The government just started to process the importance of Mutant rights, are you telling me that we’re gonna have a Robotic Rights movement on hands too? What say you Barnes, being half human half robot puts you in the dreaded middle ground?”

Bucky blinked at him owlishly and muttered.

“My arm is made of heat resistant composite polymers. I’m not half robot.”

Stark snorted and waved a hand at him.

“Whatever. Close enough. Also you and JARVIS have been so buddy-buddy lately I figured you had already talked about your violent overthrow of us human tyrants.”

Bucky’s lip twitched up. It was a scraggly smile but it was one.

“I think I get why you made JARVIS and the rest of them. You’re lonely.”

Stark’s face went from dismissive to shuttered.

“Oh you think so? Maybe I just wanted an extremely useful assistant that could actually keep up with me, unlike a twenty something graduate student with a big brain and no practical life experience. Wait why didn’t I get one of those instead? Would have been a lot less work and probably a lot more attractive.”

The robot arm on the table where Stark was working made a whirring chirp. He growled and told it to”Can it” before poking it with his gloved hand. Bucky nodded and that little grin turned into a smirk. Jarvis’ response was lofty.

“I would like to think that you love me solely for my mind Sir.”

Stark burst out laughing at Jarvis’ quip and Bucky couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips.

He straightened up from the desk and addressed Bucky, suddenly serious.

“Is that why you’ve been talking to JARVIS so much? Because you’re lonely and don’t know how to interact with people anymore. People who judge you and worry too loud because you’re not exactly healthy and mentally stable. Yeah. You’re not the only soldier in that boat. We’ve all got damage but JARVIS may not be the best lifeboat.”

Bucky was about to protest but Jarvis beat him to it.

“With all due respect Sir Sergeant Barnes...Bucky is my friend and if you are going to suggest that we no longer converse I’m going to have to strongly object.”

Stark stared at the ceiling flabbergasted. Bucky looked up as well.

“You’re my friend too. Thank you.”

Jarvis’ voice was warm when they responded.

“Of course. What are friends for if not to be there for one another.”

Stark shook his head in disbelief but he was smiling.

“You know what fuck it. This just shows how much I know. If you guys are friends then who am I to judge. Just don’t blow anything up.”

Bucky looked at him strangely for that and Jarvis responded tartly.

“Just because you and your friends have the habit of destroying the premises doesn’t mean that we will be so careless. Right Bucky?”

Bucky’s ghost of a grin was there once more.

“I’m not making any promises.”

Tony Stark laughed and Bucky wandered off back upstairs a little later.

After that he made it a habit to run into Tony more often. Jarvis might have been some help in that endeavor. Steve was utterly baffled by Bucky’s new friendship with Jarvis and Tony. He had no idea where it came from, and Bucky was starting to think he might be a little bit jealous. Which instead of irritating him just made him want to tease Steve more.

That was something he had been good at in the past, teasing Steve. They had both enjoyed a good ribbing and now Bucky was starting to realize it wasn’t just clowning; that they had probably been flirting back then too. But as far as Steve had explained it they had never gone beyond that. Not until now. Now things were different.

He had developed an interest in the internet and with Jarvis’ and Tony’s help started to navigate the 21st century, the world, and his personal mindfield.

Some days were better than others. He wanted Steve and Steve wanted him but Bucky was purposefully waiting until there was more of him for Steve to love. He wanted to give him everything and right now there wasn’t too much of him left.

One particularly bad night left him hoarse from screaming, tears burning molten, aching tracks down his cheeks.

_Zatknut'sya sobaku._

The steel-toed boot hadn’t hurt as much as the order that had sent it careening into his nose, there was so much blood. She had said he was safe, that she loved him, that if he did everything she asked of him they would be free to run away together. Karinya had said she would take care of him. She had lied.

It turned out she was just another scientist in the KGB. All he had been to her was a fascinating petri dish full of drugs, cybernetics, and psychological conditioning. Love was a trap, a tool, a weapon. And it had hurt him more than the suffocating burn of the cryo-chamber or the white hot needle of the wipe chair.

That time they had to wipe him over and over until his screams were silent and there was not enough liquid left in his body to sweat let alone cry. It did not matter how they treated him, he would take it silently until they were finished with him, whatever happened to him he deserved. It was his purpose.

He was a sobaka, a dog, a weapon, an asset. Weapons did what they were made to do, never hesitated, never questioned. Weapons obeyed.

Bucky’s screams had woken him up shaking, the sheets tangled around his legs so hard they were cutting off his circulation. The bed was almost soaked with his sweat. He curled in on himself as Jarvis’ soothing voice blanketed him.

“Bucky? Do you require assistance? I am here either way.”

He couldn’t make his mouth work so he shook his head no while trying to breath right again. Jarvis didn’t speak for a long time after that. He waited for Bucky to calm down and wake up fully. When he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to the floor Jarvis addressed him.

“Mr. Stark often has night terrors when he chooses to sleep. Panic attacks are also commonplace by now. I have found it is helpful for him to know someone is there even if we do not speak. What would you find helpful for me to do, if anything?”

His mouth was gummy and raw, it tasted like blood, he must have bit his tongue during the thrashing. Bucky put his head in his hands and tried to breath deeply. When he spoke his voice was scratchy and low.

“Just stay. Maybe, maybe tell me a story. It’s stupid but I used to be afraid of thunderstorms when I was a kid. When one got really bad Steve used to tell me stories to distract me. Most of his were about soldiers and knights defeating monsters who were ten times bigger than them but yours can be about anything.”

Jarvis’ voice was soft.

“That’s not stupid. I am not sure if I can construct one as elegantly as Captain Rogers but I will try.”

Bucky leaned back on the bed and let his eyes drift closed as Jarvis started to talk to him.

The story was about a boy who was very clever and who loved his father very much.

_When the boy was very small he built beautiful clockwork animals that spoke many languages to try and impress his father. And as he grew he moved onto making fantastic glowing machines that could propel you along the ground and into the sky at tremendous speeds. Everyone was impressed with his inventions except for his father._

_He was a great and famous inventor in their kingdom and had built many wonderful machines before the boy had even been born. His most fantastic creation being a golden clockwork man with a human heart. He had saved their kingdom many times from invaders, dragons, and spies._

_He had been a man once but the inventor had made him so much more than a man. He was all that was pure and good about the world. So one day that golden clockwork man sacrificed himself in a giant explosion that would have sunk their kingdom deep beneath the cerulean sea. But it did not. He managed to save them all and then vanish. Everyone except for the inventor thought him dead._

_The inventor spent the rest of his life looking for the golden clockwork man below waves. He sometimes told the boy tales of all of the clockwork man’s great deeds and the boy wanted to grow to be like him, and like his father. Everything the boy created and did paled in comparison to the great heroics of the clockwork man. And when the boy’s father died he wasn’t even sure that his father had ever loved him as much as he had loved his greatest creation._

_So the boy built the kingdom higher into the sky, fortified it with cannons and guns that shot great beams of blue light, and locked the kingdom away._

_Other nations on the sea hungered for the boy’s inventions to use them against each other. He sold them to build the walls around his own kingdom higher. But the walls could not keep out the coming storm._

_The wind and waves came crashing down and dragged the boy from the steps of his home deep under the waves. He almost died down there like the golden clockwork man had, except his death would not have been as a hero._

_When he washed ashore there was little left of his kingdom. The people he had cared for listlessly picked up broken gears and twisted filigree from the sand around him. He looked up at the sun in the sky, warm and white as it showed what was left of his walls._

_The boy decided then to build something better. He gathered his friends, his clockwork creations, and the citizens of the kingdom and told them that he would be their new golden clockwork man. And instead of building weapons he built parks full of gardens, cold pure aqueducts, and sprawling schools that accepted all who wanted to learn. He protected people from the weapons he had built in the past and gave them a hope in the future._

_And one strange day, when the wind blew backwards from the west, the golden clockwork man washed ashore on his island. And the boy offered him his hand and said that although they didn’t need a warrior anymore their kingdom could always use another friend. The golden clockwork man nodded, accepted his hand to stand, and followed him back to his tower where he was building a new kingdom._

_Not long after his return an assassin all clad in black with a silver hand came to destroy the clockwork man. A king from far away who had been an ally to the Inventor wanted his kingdom for himself, wanted all the kingdoms for himself. So he sent the assassin to destroy the clockwork man and all who guarded the kingdom._

_They fought, rolling and tumbling against each other until the assassin threw them both together into the sea. The clockwork man could have held him fast and drowned them both but instead he let the assassin go._

_Stunned the assassin dove back down and dragged the clockwork man onto the sandy beach. When he asked the assassin why he had saved him he didn’t know. The clockwork man had hugged him and thanked him anyway. The assassin had never before been hugged and decided he would protect the clockwork man from now on, for forever. They were fast friends after that. More people from the other kingdoms came. Each different, with their own tales and troubles. Together they formed a family that sat at the core of the kingdom._

_All of the new family helped rebuild the kingdom along with all of their friends of every kind, human and clockwork, and they lived forever in peace and harmony thereafter._

Bucky was utterly relaxed when he mumbled.

“It’s supposed to go, ‘And then they lived happily everafter.’”

Jarvis’ voice was solemnly just above a whisper.

“Is it? Only time will tell I suppose.”

A sleepy smile spread over Bucky’s face and that night he did not dream. Jarvis was watching over him and that was enough.

He was no longer scared that everything might work out after all, the future had space enough for what had become of him it seemed. As Jarvis had said only time would tell and that was something he seemed to have a lot of now. Time.


End file.
